TF2 One Shots (Requests Closed)

Cliché (Scout x Reader)

Requested by my wonderful friend, Aaliyah-and-Her-Ocs 

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        Crumpled papers and dark, sleep deprived blue eyes. The sound of a frustrated sigh and paper being smashed into a ball. The only good thing about this was that Scout hardly ever missed the trash can since his aim was practiced from baseball and fighting.

     He'd been at this for a while and yet nothing seemed... right. Nothing seemed good enough. Words weren't the Bostonian's strong point. He'd loaded up on art and gym classes in high school after he'd done the classes such as math and science required to graduate rather than something like writing. He wasn't stupid by any means, but his head was in the clouds and the words didn't seem to come right.

       Love letters. It sounds so cheesy but sometimes cheesy, cliché things were just what a person needed to feel loved. Scout knew that. He could tell that you weren't the kind of person who'd turn up your nose at an act of affection even if it was slightly tacky. The question of whether or not you returned the feelings was a different story. You were on the opposite team, after all. But he was gonna try. On a cease fire day he had realized how kind and sweet you were when you helped him after a nasty fall when he had ran down a hill and developed a crush that quickly turned major.

     When he thought he had something, it turned out it was a line he'd seen in a book or movie. Scout was exhausted trying to write down his feelings, and sure that it'd be even worse if he tried to tell you in person. He was sure he would get too nervous even if he knew what to say. The numbers on the clock glowed 2:36 a.m. He had to get some sleep. Being exhausted on a battlefield was suicide. The runner sighed and promised himself he'd try again tomorrow as he wrapped himself in the blanket and flopped into bed on his back.

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    2:58. It felt like longer trying to fall asleep. Just when he was sure he was slipping away, an idea hit Scout like a bullet and he groped around in the darkness for his notebook and pen while flipping on the light. He finally had a good idea; this couldn't wait until morning came.
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    Two cups of coffee should do the trick to keep him awake out there. Especially since instead of brewing it with water, he used BONK!. Yes it tasted awful but the coffee beans and energy drink would do the trick. If not, a bomb going off near his ear or a trip through respawn would do it.

        The letter was tucked safely in the bag he had slung across his back. He'd drafted it on notebook paper before copying and editing it onto something a bit more elegant. Sealed up in an envelope with a piece of tape, it looked pretty neat to him. Scout patted the bag to make sure it was still there as the Administrator's voice blared through the speakers, counting down. The gate blocking the respawn room from the outside dropped. They were off.

      Like mentioned earlier, Scout was far from stupid. He was far from helpless too. The first one out of the gate, the Bostonian rushed forward while jumping over sentry gunfire. Everyone saw him as a child since he was younger than the other mercenaries, but that could quickly be disproven with the crack of his bat across the enemy Medic's head, shattering his glasses and leaving him bleeding, in pain, dazed, and useless. If one needed more proof, they could look to how he fired the scattergun towards the men defending the path to the Intelligent, hitting them several times and causing them to scatter. "Outta the way!" He called out with a laugh. The batter raced forward until he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.